Chapter Two - Surprises

Sabé Vána Naberrie, Princess of Theed, former Galactic Senator, glanced out the window and allowed herself to think longingly on a time when the galaxy had not been at war.

Why me? Why now? she thought to herself. These questions had immediate relevance as well as general. Across the table, the Minster of Foreign Affairs for the great sovereignty of Malastare was making the same old arguments. They had been holding this circular debate for weeks now—no, months, Sabé amended— and before she had arrived she had no doubt that her predecessor had likewise danced the same verbal circle ever since the war had begun. The only thing that ever changed was the catalyst and some specific issue in which the debate could dress itself. As a result, Sabé could afford a brief moment to indulge in a daydream.

"Princess Vána?"

At the sound of her name, she turned her head slightly. "Yes, Minister?"

Gee Tairn eyed her speculatively. "What is Naboo's position for providing foodstuffs for the front?"

"Our position and our capability are one and the same, Minister," she replied smoothly. "Which is tentative at best. You know we can spare little beyond what we have already contributed without putting our planet once again in a vulnerable position."

Tairn scoffed. "The Trade Federation has long since ceased to be a particular threat to Naboo, Princess, as you are well aware." He leaned back. "Chancellor Palpatine has instituted a fine, flourishing capitalistic system of trade since the Federation's defection, with many fair and non-corrupt companies in competition. Naboo's own Bakurcom is one such, if I'm not mistaken."

"It is not the shadow of the Trade Federation alone which motivates our internal policies, Minister. Both Queen Amidala and King Richard have favored a conservative approach to planetary government, an approach I think that all planets in the Republic would do well to follow, especially in a time of war. We will not be caught helpless again. The foodstuff reserves remain on Naboo."

Leaning back slightly, Tairn narrowed his three eyes at her. "One might ask, Senator Vána, exactly what Naboo has contributed to the war effort."

"And one might reply, Minister, that Naboo should not be expected to provide any form of support in a war for which it had no opportunity to favor or oppose," Sabé replied with aplomb.

"It was a Naboo representative who put forth the proposition to expand the Chancellor's powers," Tairn shot back, almost gleefully.

Inwardly, Sabé sighed. Poor Jar Jar. Needless to say, Padmé had pulled the well-meaning, bumbling creature from his vaunted position on Coruscant, but the damage had already been done. Sabé was sure that the Chancellor would have found other means to achieve his ends, but his clever use of Jar Jar in Padmé's absence had crippled Padmé's strength as a voice for the opposition. Sabé had never been able to fathom what had possessed Padmé to include Jar Jar on her staff to begin with. It was one of the few points of contention the sisters had ever had on political matters. Sabé did not doubt Jar Jar's good heart, but in her eyes he had always been destined to be a victim of politics, not the fresh voice Padmé had hoped to make him. Senator Amidala's blind faith in him had cost them all dearly. Sabé often wondered how things might have turned out differently had Dooji Bip not retired.

She met Tairn's gaze, still not rising to his bait. He was fishing for a fireworks show, and she refused to throw a hissy fit, though inwardly she would have liked to have thrown a smashball— two smashballs— at his smug face, one each in the spaces between his three eyes. She probably would have missed; she was a terrible shot. But it would have felt good. Instead, she leaned forward, her face still almost expressionless, and said, "The issue of an army was coming to vote, Minister. We could have kept democracy intact."

"You words border on treason, Ambassador," he said.

She relaxed back into her chair again. "I am here to speak for the King and Senator of Naboo. Call me before the Separatist inquisition, if you like," she replied, unconcerned with the threat. "My position is already well known. Let them determine the difference between loyalty and opinion."

Tairn merely glared a minute more, ground his teeth inside his round, narrow little mouth, and proceeded to the next topic on his itinerary with a grunt. Sabé resumed her daydream.

When the meeting was finally over, she fled the room with relish, grateful to be free for an entire week together. Once far enough down the hall that Gee Tairn's eyes weren't burning imaginary holes in the back of her robes, she reached up to rub the back of her neck with probing fingers, tilting her head to try and release some of the tension. Headdresses and complicated hairstyles made an impression, but they also tended to keep the royal masseuse back in Theed working overtime. She wondered idly if she could find as skilled a counterpart here on Malastare, but quickly dismissed the thought. No doubt he or she would be a spy for Gee Tairn, reporting back on a weekly basis how much tension he caused the upstart Naboo Ambassador.

She scowled. If it wasn't for this stupid war, she would probably be able to get some real ambassadorial work done, instead of doing her part to help push pieces around a giant galactic de'jarak board while the common people waited in suspense for their representatives to resume governing. On the other hand, she reflected, it wasn't like much in the way of governing had gotten done before the war. Wasn't that why the Separatists had separated in the first place?

"Ambassador Vána!"

Sabé turned to see the Alderaanian ambassador, Belden Luhrs, racing down the corridor after her. She smiled, not displeased to see him. It was not, perhaps, the most dignified pace for an interplanetary Ambassador, but Luhrs managed to maintain his poise nonetheless.

She paused to allow him to catch up, her welcoming smile still intact when he stopped before her, very slightly out of breath. "Ambassador Luhrs," she greeted with a slight nod of the head.

He nodded in acknowledgement, still trying to catch his breath. "You must be late for an engagement at such a fixated pace, Princess," he said with a slight laugh.

Sabé licked her lips and her eyes twinkled as she replied, with cautious words, "My pace had more to do with leaving an engagement than arriving at one, I confess," she said. Had she not been in such a formal setting, she probably would have rolled her eyes.

As it was, Luhrs still chuckled knowingly. "Minister Tairn's approach to politics—" he said, "Oh, where to begin?"

"Loquacious," said Sabé. "That's the place to start. I think it was almost a full hour before anybody else had a chance to speak in that laughable attempt at a conference, and then it was only to ask Ambassador Pasau for the time."

This time he laughed outright. "You are ruthless, Ambassador," he informed her. He gestured ahead with one hand. "May I accompany you? Provided I do not hamper your pace?"

"Certainly." They turned and continued down the corridor together. After a moment, Sabé commented, "Minister Tairn's overbearing manner notwithstanding, Ambassador Luhrs, you said very little in the conference." Sabé had been giving it some thought, and wondered if she couldn't guess the reason for this impromptu little meeting on her colleague's part.

Her suspicious, while not absolutely confirmed, were certainly not discouraged by the professional gravity that now overtook Luhrs' kind face. He regarded her with a keen eye. "Like you, Senator, I had very little to say that had not already been said. It is your misfortune that you are Tairn's favorite smashball target."

"Odd you should put it that way," she muttered lowly. "I was actually thinking of using him as a smashball target in there."

Luhrs smiled sympathetically at the joke but kept to business. "I'm surprised he didn't call me out. It would have been to his advantage."

Sabé paused in her footsteps and turned to face him with a soft sigh. "You're here to tell me that Alderaan is tapping into its reserves."

He nodded. "I don't know why Tairn didn't play that card in there, but I'm glad he didn't. I wanted to get a chance to tell you in private."

Sabé pressed her lips together a moment, trying to collect her thoughts, before resuming their walk once more. "May I be so bold as to ask why? Senator Amidala had counted on Alderaan's support."

"Supporting an armistice and withholding foodstuffs are not the same issue, Ambassador. Believe me, it's not something that has been easy on any of us—the Parliament, Prince Organa— but at the end of the day those are human lives out there fighting this war."

"Are we so sure about that?" she asked him quietly, though admittedly with very little conviction. "They were grown in a laboratory. Their minds have been stripped of free will."

"But they are still capable of emotion, of pain and suffering. And hunger." He pointed out.

She gave the slightest of nods as they kept walking. It was something that she, Richard, and Padmé had long been wrestling with. "I understand your position, Senator. Thank you for your candor."

After a few moments of slightly awkward silence, she then said, "May ask you something? As an individual, not as an ambassador speaking on behalf of the whole of Alderaan."

"Of course."

"Do you truly support the idea of an armistice? I know we have spoken of it often, but there is always doubt in all of your expressions."

Luhrs hesitated, looking briefly like someone caught in a trap. "The Republic is a beautiful dream, Princess," he said. "But I've always believed that in scope it long ago surpassed itself. We're simply too big for ourselves." At this, Sabé smiled faintly and he continued. "I do believe that, in principle, the Separatists have a right to cessation if they so choose. So yes, to answer your question, I do support the armistice argument. The doubt you perceive in me is not in the rightness of this idea, but doubt that it would ever work."

"Why not?" Sabé asked.

He glanced at her. "I had the fortune— or perhaps misfortune— to be with Prince Organa when he met with Count Dooku and some of the Separatist leaders shortly after the Battle of Geonosis," he said. "Though I could not provide you with any proof, I came a way with the distinct feeling that some in the room, including Dooku, had no interest in independence at all. Only in war. They very definitely seemed to want the war. For no fathomable reason that I could give you."

Sabé shivered. "That is a chilling thought, Ambassador."

"I pray to any gods that it is nothing more than one humble pacifist's paranoia," he replied, shaking his head. "As I said, it is nothing more than an unfounded instinct."

"If you are right," Sabé said, frowning, "it wouldn't be the first time in recent memory that hostilities had been incited without sensible explanation. To this day I still have no satisfactory answer to why the Trade Federation ever decided to attack Naboo."

"I confess I had not thought of that. But in short, Princess, I believe there are sinister parties with interest in this war, and while I believe in the ideals of the negotiating table, I do not think they will be of any use to us."

She nodded slowly, accepting his reasons, and wondered what Padmé would think of all of this. "Thank you, Beldon," she said quietly, coming to a stop again. "You have given me much to ponder."

"I only hope someday I can give you more pleasant food for thought," he said. He took her hand and kissed it, complete with a formal bow. "Until then, rest assured that Alderaan remains Naboo's staunch ally in the pursuit of peace, despite this lowly ambassador's unsubstantiated fears." He smiled.

"Thank you," Sabé repeated, and watched him take his leave.

When she got back to her quarters, Maité was waiting. "How did it go?" the handmaiden asked, leading the way into the dressing room, where the lighting began immediately to turn on, all settings to Sabé's liking.

"How does it always go?" Sabé asked tiredly. "I'm kind of in the mood to pretend I'm not a politician for the rest of the day."

Maité laughed. "Gown or hair first?" she asked.

"Hair," Sabé replied, dropping into the stool in front of the vanity with relief. "Definitely hair."

With expert and soothing efficiency, Maité began extracting Sabé's hair from the maddening headdress. While she worked, Sabé's thoughts drifted reluctantly to the rest of her evening. Unfortunately, she could not take the night off. She had an 'informal' dinner with the Bimmissarian ambassador later in the evening, and an even later conference call with Richard afterward. She wished she could have called him now, but as Richard was the king and she merely the ambassador, she was obliged to match his schedule.

Sabé was anxious to hear from Richard himself any news regarding the assassination attempt of the prior week. What news she was able to glean from the holo feed did little to satisfy her. Old fears and questions about her mother's death that had lain long dormant— or at least in deep hibernation— had been brought most violently and repeatedly to the surface since the threats to Richard's life had begun. She was relieved, at least, that he had finally convinced Yvenne to quit palace life for the moment. She and Sioned had left Theed three days ago, once Yvenne had been well enough to travel. Where they had been taken not even Sabé knew.

The only good thing to be said, for the moment, was that the rest of her afternoon before dinner was free. She could take a nap. After Maité had finished helping her change out of her uncomfortable garb of state, she ate a quick lunch and settled into her bed to do just that.

Some time later, Maité was shaking her awake. Sabé sat up, disoriented, wondering for a moment where she was and how she'd gotten there. A few seconds later the pieces started falling into place and she was surprised to realize she'd been sleeping so deeply. She was usually a light napper.

"What is it, Maité?" she asked, reaching up to rub at her eyes. "Did I oversleep?"

"No, my lady. It's still late afternoon. Senator Amidala is on the line. She wanted me to wake you right away."

Sabé blinked stupidly. "Padmé?" she repeated. "What does she want?"

Maité looked worried. "The Separatists have launched an attack on the capital, my lady. The Chancellor has been kidnapped."

Claria Elsinoré Naberrie dashed up the staircase to the executive wing of Theed palace as quickly as her heavy skirts would allow. The guards positioned at the foot and head of the stairs made no move to prevent her, nor gave any other indication that they marked her passing. Once up the stairs, she hurried down the succeeding corridor toward Richard's office suite.

The guard outside the door stepped up smoothly to stop her. "Just a moment, Princess."

Breathing heavily, Claria rolled her eyes. "Oh for goodness' sake, Bothey," she said with a touch of complaint.

"His Majesty is on a conference call with the capital," the guard informed her. "He asked not to be disturbed."

"I'll be very quiet, I promise," she said.

He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Your Highness."

Claria bit her tongue and tried to glare through the door to where her baby brother would be sitting at his desk. She sympathized with his growing paranoia over the past two years, but sometimes his rigid precautions tended to go annoyingly too far.

Abruptly, she thought of Yvenne's black and blue face of the past week and closed her eyes, gently chastising herself for her impatience. Instead, she satisfied herself with taking up a brusque pace back and forth outside the office door, waiting.

She was not kept long in suspense. A few minutes later, Bothey received a telling click from his radio and after a brief conversation, he glanced at Claria and nodded, opening the door to allow her to pass. She hurried through.

Richard was standing up to greet her, and she hurried over to give him an eager hug. "I just heard," she said eagerly. "Is it true? The Chancellor?"

He nodded. "There have been confirmed sightings of both Dooku and Grievous, but with most of their forces spread across the Outer Rim in engagements, they'll have a hard time getting through the security net around the planet."

"You think they'll try to flee Coruscant?" she asked. "I would have thought their intent was to kill him."

He shook his head. "That would only put them back at square one. Palpatine's successor would take power with full authority and they'll have lost the element of surprise. No, holding him hostage gives them a much stronger position to negotiate."

Claria frowned. "Then why wouldn't they just stay on the planet? I would think there would be no better place to hide than on Coruscant."

"And you would probably be right, but over half the Jedi Council is still in residence, some of the greatest Masters in the galaxy. They can't conceal him there for long."

"What about Padmé?" Claria asked, hurriedly moving on to the point of greater concern, at least in her mind.

"I made contact. She's safe, for now. And under increased security, of course. I didn't get to talk long. Comm time is very precious at the moment."

"What is the Senate going to do?" she asked, concerned.

"What else? Recall the Jedi. Some of them, anyway. Security net or no, when Grievous makes his move they'll need all the help they can get." He shook his head. "I couldn't learn anything more. Padmé was very pressed for time."

"What about Sabé? Does she know?"

"I'm sure she would have found out soon enough, but yes. Padmé called her. Before she called here." Richard's expression was slightly dark at this, and he was quiet for a moment.

Feeling uncomfortable, Claria looked around. "Where's Ceidron?" she asked abruptly. As one of Richard's closest, though not always favorite, advisors, her husband was usually around when she came to visit.

"He was here this morning. He got a call from Commenor earlier. Something about one of their citizens causing a disturbance in Theed and then there was some kind of visa mess… they called to ask if he could help smooth things over." Richard returned to his desk and sat down, resting his hand over his eyes for a moment. Claria looked at him sadly. Sometimes it was hard to believe he had only twenty-one years to his name. "That was before we got word of the situation on the capital," Richard continued. "I would have expected him back by now."

The intercom clicked to life. "Your Majesty?"

"What is it, Bothey?"

"Agent Joppa Kal and his team are here, Sire. May I send them in?"

Suddenly, Richard seemed renewed with energy. He straightened in the chair, his expression cautiously hopeful. "At once, Bothey, please."

"Would you like me to go?" Claria asked as the door opened behind them.

He hesitated, then shook his head. "No, you can stay, if you like. This concerns all of us."

They turned to face the newcomers, a man and two women. One of the women Claria recognized as Padmé's former handmaiden, Yané val Argon, and she smiled with eager greeting.

"Claria, may I present Joppa Kal, Desmé Teelis, and of course you already know Yané. Agents Kal and Teelis, this is my sister, Princess Claria Elsinoré Naberrie."

"Your Highness," said Agent Kal, dropping into a respectful bow.

"Agent Kal and his team have been conducting a secret investigation of these assassinations," Richard informed her quietly.

"With little success until now, I'm afraid," the other man, probably two or three years older than Richard, admitted reluctantly. "But we may have new insight. Your Majesty, if I may?" he asked, turning to Richard.

"By all means."

Richard sat down at his desk again and indicated Claria to a chair against the wall behind him, which she took, curious and suddenly sharing Richard's hope.

Agent Kal took a data card from his pocket and inserted it into the holo projector on Richard's desk. "I'm sorry it has taken such a long time for us to compile this report, Your Majesty," he said, "but we wanted to be thorough and analysis of the ballistics took some considerable time."

"How so?"

The woman Claria did not know, Agent Teelis, stepped forward. "There was no bullet, Sire," she said simply.

Richard leaned forward with a frown. "You told me that the blast radius and trajectory of the explosion indicated that it had been triggered from a distance, probably by a sniper."

"And so it was," the woman said, nodding. "But his weapon of choice was far from conventional."

She glanced at her team leader, who nodded grimly, before turning to face the king again. "It was some manner of sonic weapon, Your Majesty, I'm almost certain of it. Not only based upon the fact that we have no physical evidence of a projectile, but samples taken from the damaged sections of the palace—" she hesitated.

"Yes?" Richard prompted, clearly trying to rein in his patience.

"Well, there were foreign elements," she concluded. "In the brick, in the mortar. Highly volatile chemical combinations that would prove highly dangerous given the right energy trigger. They were not part of the palace's initial construction. They were targeted with a high-energy sonic blast on a very specific frequency. This was the cause of the explosion."

Claria stared, amazed. "You're saying they were—" she hesitated, looking over at Richard, whose face was impossible to read "—built into the building?" The words sounded ridiculous in her mouth but she could think of no clearer way to express her question.

Agent Teelis nodded.

"How is that possible?" Claria asked, overcome with a sudden chill.

Agent Kal stepped forward and turned on the holo projector. It showed a display of the palace with several major, outward sections highlighted in bright blue. "These sections of the palace were heavily damaged thirteen years ago in the battle with the Trade Federation," he said. He looked at Richard gravely. "My lord, I've sampled them all. They all show traces of the same chemical compounds."

Richard stared at the holo for a long, long moment before glancing back up at the agent darkly. "You're saying that whoever was behind this put contingencies in place as far back as the reconstruction?"

Agent Kal turned off the holo projector. "Yes, Sire. Exactly that. Less than a year after Queen Leiandra's assassination. My lord, while this is still not sufficient proof, I believe it more likely than ever that the attempts on your life and the successful assassination of your mother are not unrelated."

Claria looked fearfully over at Richard. His jaw was as taut as the strings on her clavaria, some three stories below them. "And what of the shooter?" he asked.

"We determined where the shot originated, under a ledge between the fourth and fifth stories of the Parliament building. It's just a lip of shingles, really, Sire. A child could have been concealed in there, but not an average adult human. Either the shooter isn't human or he or she is abnormally small for one."

"The Parliament building," Richard repeated, and Claria closed her eyes briefly.

When she opened them again, Agent Kal was nodding. "Yes," he said. "Another link. The two incidents are much to closely related for my liking."

Now Richard turned his attention to Yané. "How could anyone have gained access?" he said.

She shook her head. "Not without help, Ri—Your Majesty. I've reviewed the security system, as best I can. It wasn't a blind spot. The system would have spotted him climbing in there. I didn't want to request to examine the recordings until we'd reported to you. That will raise a lot of flags. But I'm quite sure I'll find evidence of tampering. Also, it would have been very hard for him to get up there without first entering the building, even at night, and you know how tight security measures have been inside Parliament. He probably had inside help."

Agent Kal stepped forward, "Your Majesty, I think our unknown enemy may have finally tipped their hand. Based on this evidence I think it likely that someone within the Naboo government is responsible for this string of assassination attempts, or is at least party to whoever is truly behind them."

Claria's heart was pounding. She could hardly believe her ears. After a moment, Richard cleared his throat. "We already suspected the nobility was part of this," he said.

"Yes, Sire, but the reconstruction of the palace gives us a strong lead. Oversight committees, engineering contracts, a paper trail, sir. It is my hope that this thread might finally lead us to some answers."

Now Richard's face was catching the other man's enthusiasm. "So how do we proceed?" he asked. "I presume you'll want to pull your operations in Oxon?"

"For the time being, no," Agent Kal admitted. "Without knowing who among your councilors may be trusted, we think it best to maintain the illusion that we're following former leads for a little while longer. I am going to leave Yané here for the time being, though, to begin the new investigation discreetly. I want her working alone."

Richard nodded. "Good work, all of you," he said, getting to his feet. "Return to Oxon, request whatever resources or personnel that you need. And Yané—" he added, "—I'll start with getting you the Parliament security footage. Discreetly. We don't want to raise any flags."

"Thank you, Your Majesty." She tripped again slightly on the title, and Claria smiled. It was probably really odd for Yané, who had often times been one of Richard's babysitters when he was younger, to stop calling him by his given name.

Agent Kal and his team departed. When the door was shut behind them, Richard glanced at the chrono. "Somehow I suspect Ceidron's not coming back to work today."

"No probably not," she agreed. "Richard, did you have any idea that this might happen? I mean, the idea of assassins within the Naboo—" she trailed off, still unwilling to believe it.

"I tried not to harbor such ideas without any evidence," Richard said. "But I have to admit, it wasn't easy. We've been in power for a long time, Claria. Some people just don't like it, and that's that." He turned to the window and looked out, his forehead wrinkling with worry. "But one thing's for sure, it's no way to govern. All of this constant fear, paranoia, not a mention a war waging throughout the whole galaxy." He shook his head. "I can barely maintain a grip on things day to day around here. How am I supposed to plan for the long term and run elections on top of everything else? Sometimes I think Chancellor Palpatine had the right idea."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, it's so inefficient sometimes. I hate having my hands tied by procedural niceties. I'd rather just have the power to get something done for a change, and to hell with that blasted Parliament anyway."

Claria blinked at him, surprised. "You'd better not let Padmé hear you talking like that," she said.

"Right, because she's been so communicative lately," he retorted.

Claria pressed her lips together, feeling uncomfortable again. He didn't say as much, but she knew he was referring to her sister's recent pregnancy, highly publicized, the subject of much gossip and scandal in several dozen systems. The Naboo as a population had very conservative views on marriage and family and the fact that their icon, their beloved Amidala, had seemingly broken one of Naboo's greatest social taboos had not made things easy on any of them, especially Richard.

Claria was fairly sure that Richard would have been willing to forgive Padmé, except that she flatly refused to admit she'd done anything wrong. She had not submitted her resignation, as many had automatically assumed she would, and Claria knew that Richard wrestled daily with whether or not he should demand it.

For her part, Claria felt a sense of hurt on a more personal level. While she had never been as close to Padmé as she was to Sabé, she still felt that she should have been entitled to know if her sister was involved with someone— if she was happy, if she had been hurt. But Padmé had retreated into Amidala and did not seem to want to come out. There were distances between the Naberrie siblings, distances far greater in misunderstandings than in light years, and Claria had never before appreciated just how much Sabé kept them all tied together.

She walked up to her brother and put a tentative hand on his arm. "Padmé will come around," she assured him gently. "I know she will. You know how stressful the war has been for her."

"I know. I hope she stays safe, in all of this."

Claria's thoughts turned once again to the situation on Coruscant, momentarily forgotten with her attention focused on problems nearer to home. "I hope so too," she said. She patted Richard's arm again. "Think positively," she admonished him. "It's not exactly happy news, but it looks like the investigation took a good step forward today."

He nodded. "It did. Thank you, Claria."

"I'll see you tomorrow?" she asked.

"What? Oh, right. Dinner. Yes, I'm looking forward to it."

"All right. Goodbye."

Just before passing through the doorway, Claria turned one last time. Richard was still standing at the window, a deeply thoughtful expression on his face.

Ceidron would never have admitted it out loud, but as tedious as the excuse had sounded, he was more than glad to get away from his brother-in-law for one afternoon. Richard's single-minded bad mood had been festering for months, and it was sometimes more than Ceidron cared to handle. Some days it was all he could do to keep from shouting some sense into Richard, and as time went on, he began to wonder what was holding him back.

He took his time getting down to the Commenoran Embassy. A trifle selfish, perhaps, but he really felt the need to walk off his frustration with Richard before he went home and took it out on Claria instead. By the time he arrived, it had been an hour and a half since their call for help.

He entered the front offices of the embassy, all of the clerks at the front counter jumped to their feet with astonishing speed. "Your Lordship," said the first. Ceidron rolled his eyes.

"Just because I married a royal, I don't know why everyone seems to think that makes me one," he muttered. Technically, they had bestowed upon him some sort of honorary title, but he liked to complain about it whenever possible. "Minister Fifla called me?" he said.

"Fifra. Yes, sir. I'll tell him you're here."

The clerk disappeared through the door behind the counter. Ceidron stood waiting, dumbly, trying not to stare down the other clerks and all the visitors in the room eyeing him and whispering among themselves.

After a few agonizing minutes of this behavior, the first clerk returned with Minister Fifra on his heels, followed by the Commenorian ambassador, Geelis. "Lord Metz, thank you so much for coming. This is a rather sticky situation. I think you can be of great help."

Ceidron gave a shrug. "What can I do for you?"

"Follow us, please," Ambassador Geelis asked.

They went through the door behind the counter as the Ambassador kept talking. "We're keeping her here in the embassy for the moment, but there's a slight legal problem. You see, her travel visa has expired and in addition to that—"

"Ambassador," Ceidron interrupted, stopping in the middle of the hallway so that the two older men were forced to do the same.

"Yes, my lord?"

Biting back a scowl, Ceidron mustered his patience and said, "You'll both forgive me but I have no idea of any of the specifics. Maybe you should start at the beginning?"

"Certainly."

Ceidron waited a moment expectantly. "Well?" he prompted. "Who is she? She's from Commenor?"

Obviously grateful for the starting place, Minister Fifra nodded with relief, and began walking again as he resumed his explanation. "Yes, my Lord. Commenoran by birth. Her name is Jessa Kennich. She arrived on Naboo a little over a week ago, and—"

Ceidron stopped again. "What did you say?"

"My lord?"

"Her name. What did you say her name was?"

"Jessa Kennich, my lord."

Ceidron stood there, trying to decide if there was any good way to gauge his shock. Surely not. It had to be a coincidence. "Go on," he said cautiously.

"Like I said, she arrived on Naboo a little over a week ago. The day of the attack on the palace, in fact. She was held up for several days due to the delays caused by security measures, and by the time she got out of customs her visa was nearly expired. She made several attempts to contact you, sir, and then—"

"She tried to contact me?" Ceidron asked, surprised. "Why didn't anyone tell me?"

Minister Fifra seemed confused by this. "Well, quite a number of visitors from Commenor attempt to do the same, my lord. If we forward all of the requests you would have precious little time on your hands for anything else."

"And then what happened?"

"The visa expired and Kennich did not return for her scheduled flight back to Commenor. Pursuant to procedure, we tried to enforce it, but she resisted security and proceeded to create quite a mess for herself by breaking several of Naboo's laws. Petty theft, vandalism, and forgery to say the least."

"She pulled all of that off in a few days?"

"A few hours, my lord," Fifra corrected. "Our forces finally caught up with her, and now there seems to be a certain bit of confusion over jurisdiction. If her visa had still been in effect, the laws would be quite clear, but being that the crimes took place in Naboo against the Naboo people without the protection of—"

"She must be sentenced under Commenor law!" insisted Ambassador Geelis, adamantly, and Ceidron realized that the two gentlemen had been eagerly waiting to get to this argument so they could perform it for his benefit, hoping he'd take a swift side. "The interplanetary code in the Republic charter clearly states that in such—"

"Gentleman," said Ceidron. "I'm not a lawyer. I'll need some help before you start delving into all of that." He was pleased to see them both shut up, but not without betraying their disappointment. "Can I see the prisoner?"

This seemed to surprise them. "You want to see the prisoner, my lord?" asked Minister Fifra.

"I think she might be an old friend of mine."

That definitely shocked them. "Sir?" asked Geelis.

"I knew a Jessa Kennich back on Comennor. Quite well, in fact," he added quietly. "Can I please see her?"

"Certainly, certainly, my lord. This way."

Ceidron couldn't explain the feelings of apprehension that had suddenly come over him as the Ambassador and the Minister led him deeper into the complex. Jessa Kennich had been the closest he'd come to falling in love before he'd met Claria Naberrie. She had always been headstrong, but she'd never been reckless, and she'd certainly never been a criminal. What could have prompted such wild behavior on her part? What was she even doing on Naboo in the first place?

Wondering if there was still an off chance it was a different person of the same name, or maybe even someone using information about his past against him, Ceidron entered the small but comfortable detention area with trepidation. Immediately all such remote possibility fled his thoughts.

She was older than he remembered, of course, but she also appeared older than he would have ever imagined. Unbelievably tired, in fact. Her hair was shorter, more practical. One giant travel duffel was open on the bunk beside her, and in her lap was resting a little girl with dark hair and flushed cheeks.

Jessa's eyes lifted to Ceidron's and she let out a long, relieved sigh. "It's about time," she muttered, and rose to her feet, careful not to disturb the sleeping child. Jessa walked to the glass wall that separated her from Ceidron and eyed him almost angrily. "Are you so high and mighty now that you can't even answer letters from an old friend?"

"Jessa," he said, dumbfounded. "What are you doing here?"

"Here?" she asked, and looked around pointedly at the walls holding her in. "I'm in here because I'm desperate and it was honestly the best way I could think to get your attention. How's that for crazy?"

"Who's that?" he asked, nodding with some inexplicable suspense at the little girl still sound asleep on the bunk behind them.

Jessa followed his gaze and then turned back to him with a pointed expression. "That, Ceidron Metz, is your daughter." She gave him a grim smile. "Did you miss me?"

A/N: I'll always know I was in Chile when I wrote this chapter. 'Gee Tairn' came from me needing a SW name and casting my eyes about for ideas, when they rested on the guitar that was hanging about the stairwell in my house in Chile, so I just made some phonetic and spelling adjustments to 'guitar.' 'Maité' the handmaiden was named after my little sister in Chile with the same name, sans accent mark. Also, one of the many just plain silly aspects of the prequel trilogy was Anakin's non-recognition of Padmé's pregnancy, which, as melyanna once pointed out, was probably obvious from orbit. As such, I totally disregarded any idea that her pregnancy was some galactic secret and it actually made for some interesting familial and political tension. :-)